Work Text:
LEPRECHAN CHALLENGE
an excerpt
by Hondo
A dim illumination swathed the flight deck, in what passed for the night cycle of the mighty Liberator. And as usual Avon chose this shift as his own. Truth be told he preferred to take the night shift, as it generally meant he could monitor the flight deck on his own, and he was, most of the time, a solitary creature... Tonight however, Avon did not find himself alone for lying on the lounge, wrapped around an empty Soma bottle, was the slumbering form of their resident Delta, Vila Restal.
Still, it seemed as if the rhythmic sounds of Vila's snoring was somehow reassuring despite Avon's undemonstrative claims. And he found himself delving into his never-ending study of the ship's functions to the rhythm of Vila's nocturnal, nasal symphony.
Slowly relaxing his guard as time went by..
Avon straighten up from his latest piece of investigative probing into the auxiliary logic circuits. Researching their overall capacity and of course, trying to ascertain how long it takes for said circuits to come on-line once the major unit has been disconnected or damaged. As he stretched his aching back, his gaze swept across the flight deck as something caught his peripheral attention.
Everything seemed quiet, apart from Vila, and he had barely moved since the computer expert last saw him a few hours ago, so what... Ah! the flashing lights on the transparent box that sat on a trolley by the feet of the sleeping Delta, that was what had caught his attention. The box was cascading away at quite a rapid speed.
Obviously he was once again investigating some complicated theory, delving deep into the whichness of the why and wherefore's of the galaxy. Intrigued as usual, Avon's curiosity led him to question the engrossed machine.
"Orac, what are you reconnoitering in the myriad of all the available computer banks this time"? Avon continued without giving the small computer a chance to reply. "What great cosmic cadence is passing back and forth in those clogged circuits of yours?" Avon asked fully expecting an immediate answer in the ongoing battle of wits he enjoyed with the AI.
"Kindly refrain from interrupting my deliberations with your meaningless procrastinating. When I have concluded my current research I shall inform you, in particular, of my inference and you may then benefit from my investigations." Orac answered rather petulantly.
A smile, a genuine smile, embellished Avon's face, beginning at his lips and meandering all the way up to his shimmering, somewhat sensual eyes. The computer genius usually did not allow himself the luxury of relaxing his habitually obstinate control, preferring to keep a tight reign on everything including, especially, his emotions in public. But at this particular time he felt rather safe in letting down his guard in order to appreciate Orac's tirade, the computer's display of obvious umbrage.
After all, only Vila was present and he was asleep, aided by a liberal dose of alcohol, no doubt.
Then again a Vila fully awake would not have made any difference, the Delta would have been no hindrance to the relaxing of Avon's taught control. A small part of Avon's mind noted that blatant yet unexpected fact away for future reference, another theory to ponder on when time permitted, 'just when did he begin to let his guard down around Vila and more to the point, why'? The predominant section of his brain carried on with his debate with Orac.
"Come Orac, I know you are fully capable of evasion, but all I asked was what are you working on presently that has you so absorbed in your studies." A look of disapproval flashed across the human's face. " Answer me, Orac.." His voice becoming tinged with impatience. "Had I wanted a lecture I would have awakened Blake, if I needed an oration on morality I would have sort out Cally and if I felt like a row I'd send for Jenna.. Answer me." The atmosphere of relaxation that had been forging itself around the computer whiz was beginning to fracture, the first signs of a fissure appearing was evident by the stance that Avon had taken.
From his position on the lounge Vila could see Avon's reaction.. 'Shit' he thought, 'Here I am hoping Avon will relax and become if not human at least a bit more approachable and that bloody rat in a box has to go and listen to me for a change and investigate what I only mentioned in passing....Stupid machine'. Yet he did not move, still feigning sleep as right now he did not think it wise to alert Avon to his presence, well not just yet anyway....
As Avon was just about to demand an answer from the small computer it relented and deigned to reply.
"Very well, if you must know I am investigating very complex phenomenon for the one called Vila" Orac snapped.
Avon spun on his boot heel, and did a double take in Orac's general direction. "You mean to tell me that you are up to your tarial cells in a project recommended to you by Vila....? Our Vila....? Our fifth grade idiot Vila...?" Avon asked somewhat flabbergasted, he continued. "What could our dimwitted Delta possible mention to you that could so captivate your circuits to this, such an extensive, extreme and could for that matter be of possible interest as to benefit the group as a whole, or more to the point, to me?"
The flashing lights contained in Orac's casing ceased for a moment, almost as if he was hesitant, embarrassed even to answer the man standing by him. Then, as if deciding that keeping Avon waiting too long would be detrimental to his continued existence he spoke.
"The Wee Folk" Orac replied in a hedged tone.
"The whom"? A somewhat confused and amused Avon solicited.
After another few seconds of delay (this time a sign that now the AI was getting annoyed). " Vila informed me of the existence of the 'Wee Folk' a race intertwined within your own ancestry as a matter of fact. A subspecies from Earth, categorized especially in the region of Old Earth once known as Britain, or more accurately, Ireland.. " The machine huffed, obviously gaining more confidence as he progressed as now the conversation had turned from a discussion with Avon to a lecture, with himself as the instructor.
"Oh really, and just what are the characteristics of these "Wee Folk' of Vila's then Orac?"
"They are not of Vila's limited imagination, if that is what you believe, Avon" the affronted computer replied.
Trying very hard not to give away the fact that he was awake and therefore aware of this conversation, in it's affronting entirety, Vila was annoyed within the privacy of his own mind at the liberties taken by Avon, which he could and would forgive. Well how could he hold anything against the dark enigma for too long... except..(Okay Vila, down boy I didn't mean hold anything against him literally, physically.. yeah I wish) .. or that sneaky little box of twinkling bulbs, Orac were taking at his expense.
Still, the situation might yet be retrievable if only the obnoxious box would shut up and let Avon once again calm down, and become more relaxed, more receptive to.. 'That's the question isn't it, more receptive to what...? I know what I want, but will he...? Do I have the nerve...? Oh, just shut up, Vila and listen to what they are saying, you may miss something important.'
He shuffled a bit to give the impression of adjusting his position in his sleep, and once again lay back to follow what was happening on the flight deck. His attention once again focused on the two voices interacting with each other a short distance away.....
"I was about to suggest that you run a systems check to purge your circuits of contamination, but obviously you believe you are analyzing an authentic topic." Avon concluded, more to convince himself than really talking to Orac. Okay back to basics, the only way the computer expert could get to the bottom of this ridiculous problem and free up Orac's circuits for the more serious problems of anticipating Blake's fanatical enterprises and to also continue to outwit Madame Servalan and the her legion of the Federation's best sent to bring the rebels down, would be to asses the problem for himself.. To start from square one.
"Orac, what information have you gleaned so far from your deliberations. Just who/what are these 'Wee Folk'?" Avon asked, as he tiredly sat down on the lounge, opposite Orac, to work his way through all the information. He felt as if it would be a waste of energy to continue this near interrogation whilst standing up.. To speak clearly to Orac and have access to any hard copy print outs Orac may produce on the topic left Avon sitting with his back to his supposedly dormant companion.. Which was, maybe, just as well, for as soon as Vila felt the depression of the lounge cushions near by he was locked in a battle royal with his own body and it's natural responses. Once again the nearness of a certain Alpha had just about unraveled all of Vila's precious self balance and, maybe more important, common sense.
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To Be ContinuedIf there is a need).....
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